It was a dark and stormy night
by newyorktopaloalto
Summary: You know what that means; stories. Or, drabbles, as it is. Modern!day/1899/slash/het/gen. Anything that is Newsies, that doesn't fit into an actual storyline, will be posted in this batch.
1. School days

Once a week, Sarah went to the lodging house and taught the other boys what school would have, if they had gone. It started when she and Jack were dating, but continued on, even when he left for Santa Fe or wherever.

Today though, the day she normally taught, there was someone else teaching. It was— she squinted to see the slightly taller form surrounded by smaller ones, Bumlets.

She sat down on the bunk and listened to his lesson.

"Sorry, Sarah," she finally heard, looking up to his sheepish smile, "they were just so enthusiastic about it today, that they couldn't wait."

"It's fine," she replied, smiling softly, "Thank you for doing this, Bumlets."

He scrunched his nose and flushed a dull red.

"It's Alejandro," he said, speaking slowly as if used to introducing himself to people who couldn't pronounce his name.

"Well then, thank you, Alejandro," she amended, hiding a smile when she noticed his fidgeting.

"Anyways," she continued, "I think that we should make up some lesson plans, so we know what we're teaching and so we don't overlap, you know?"

Alejandro nodded and Sarah grinned, adding onto her statement.

"Maybe over some dinner?" she suggested.

He choked and nodded once more, standing up and offering her his hand.

She took it and didn't let go once she stood up, instead leading him down the stairs, despite his multiple stumbles.

"I'll pay," he finally got out, voice strangled.

She looked back and smiled gleefully at his blush.

"It's a date."


	2. King of Manhattan

It was the first time that Blink had ever gone to Brooklyn with a purpose. He walked right up to Spot and stood there, waiting for Spot to acknowledge him.

"You're one of Jack's boys?" Spot finally asked, tone implying that it wasn't actually a question.

Blink shrugged.

"What're you doin' here?"

"Jack's not a very good leader anymore," Blink stated, voice starting hesitant, but growing after the first couple of words.

"I'm listenin,'" Spot said, motioning for Blink to continue.

"Manhattan needs a new leader."

"So why're you comin' to me?"

"If I do this, I'll need help. A lot of people like Jack, even if they know he's not the best for the job anymore."

"And you think you are?" Spot asked, grin slightly nasty.

"I know I am."

Spot nodded and jumped down from his perch.

"And what do I get outta it?"

Blink shrugged. "Anytime Brooklyn needs help, Manhattan will be there. Not like it used to be, where Jack would help only when convenient to himself."

"What if I want somethin' else as well?" Spot asked, gaze leering.

"I can do that," Blink stated confidently, giving his own smirk back.

"We have a deal?" he continued, holding his hand out to Spot.

"That we do."


	3. One Last Stand

Blink was nervous. And not nervous in the way that he got where he had to steal something, but nervous like when he was facing off five guys, thinking he was going to die and losing his eye.

He walked to Brooklyn again, silently counting the steps out for something to do. He stopped once he got to the docks, noticing that all the Brooklyn newsies silenced as he walked by.

"They already see you as leader of Manhattan," Spot explained, as if sensing Blink's confusion.

Blink nodded in comprehension and acknowledged the few newsies that passed them.

After they were alone, Spot jumped down from his perch and leaned against a beam.

"You know what you have to do?" Spot asked, for the first time it actually seeming like a question.

Blink nodded again, head feeling stuck in an up-down-up-down motion.

"When are you going to go through with it?" Spot continued, genuinely curious.

Blink heaved a sigh and stared over the river, looking deeply, as if expecting it to give him an answer.

"Tomorrow," he finally stated, glancing over at Spot before tracking his gaze over the water once more.

"Then I'll be there," Spot promised, voice completely sincere.

Blink gave a shrug and threw a half-grin over his shoulder.

He heard Spot hum and walk up behind him.

"You think you can do it?" Spot asked— Spot Conlon, leader of Brooklyn, gone and just Spot, in his place.

"Yeah," Blink softly replied, turning his body so it faced Spot's.

"What support do you have?"

Blink made a so-so gesture with his hand.

"Most of the people who I know really well and some of the fringe."

"More than half?"

"Definitely."

"You'll do fine."

"I know." Blink smirked at Spot.

"Are you worried?" he continued, "I can't believe it. The great Spot Conlon, nervous over little ol' Kid Blink."

"I ain't nervous," Spot groused, cheeks turning a ruddy color despite his words.

"We already went through this. Three times."

"Shuddup, Blink, I'm just making sure you know, is all."

Blink laughed at Spot and started walking away.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he stated, turning back to make sure that Spot could hear.

Spot nodded and Blink turned back around, sauntering, once again, to Manhattan.

It wasn't as hard as he thought it would be; de-throning Jack, that is.

If anything, it was too easy, and Blink ended up checking over his shoulder everyday for the next month.

He heard some of the younger newsies whispering about how he killed Jack, as Spot had done to gain Brooklyn.

Blink made sure to tell Spot about their rumors on his next trip over. He knew, for sure, that Cat was alive, working as a junior accountant at World Bank. Jack, however, he didn't know about— but he always saw Sarah hanging around Bumlets, so he figured that he went off to Santa Fe like he always said.

The takeover was simple/ He had walked up to Jack, his boys behind him, and said that he was taking over.

Blink, in the end, was kind of beat up, but not as much as Jack had been. He thought that Jack was going easy on him— as easy as you could be when just not wanting to continue being leader, that is. A sit stood, it didn't really matter if Jack had given his all or not, because all the newsies knew that he wasn't a good leader anymore, anyways.

After a few weeks of getting to know the ins and outs of being Manhattan's leader, Blink felt confident in his going to Brooklyn for a day without a counter-revolution taking place in his wake.

He walked across the bridge and gave a slight nod to the silent Brooklyn newsboys.

He got to the docks and stopped, looking up at Spot and smiling faintly at the reminiscence of the last time he was there.

Spot jumped down and greeted him, gesturing for Blink to follow him into his room.

"They're gonna wanna listen in if we're out there," Spot explained softly, opening the door and letting Blink in.

Blink nodded but smirked slightly, knowing that that was only half the reason.

"Congratulations," Spot stated, voice brash like normal.

"Thanks," Blink responded, moving incrementally closer to Spot.

He smirked, shocking Blink slightly— which, in hindsight, was a stupid reaction to Spot smirking at him.

"So," Spot exclaimed, looking up at Blink and smiling, "now that you're leader, what're you gonna do?"

"Well, I can think of a few things," Blink retorted, grinning back at Spot.

Needless to say, he got back to Manhattan later than he expected to, that night.


	4. Spanish lessons

"Swifty?"

"What, Mush?"

"I need help with my Spanish homework."

Swifty rolled his eyes and muttered something about Alex speaking Spanish, so Mush should just go and ask him.

"He's doing Student Government stuff, and Dutchy's at work. Please help me?"

Swifty sighed and put down his video-game controller.

"What do you need help with?"

"How do you say 'I love you?'"

"Um…" Swifty thought about it for a minute. He hadn't taken Spanish since Sophomore year, when they could switch to a different language.

"I dunno." he finally replied, shrugging. "I told you that you shouldn't have asked me."

"Te amo."

"What?"

"Te amo, Swifty."

"Okay, sure, whatever."

Swifty went back to his video game and Mush sighed, putting away the Spanish homework he had already completed.


	5. Hate, I really don't like you

"They hate each other," Dutchy whispered to Bumlets, voice soft so as not to garner the attention of the other boys.

"Like, really hate each other, or hate each other in the way we used to?" Bumlets whispered back.

"The latter."

Bumlets nodded, glancing over at Spot and David, instantly seeing Dutchy's point.

"I get that," he replied, smiling slightly at the sight of the two quarreling newsboys.

"Should we help them, you know?" he continued, his gestures enough for Dutchy to get the point.

"You remember the last time we tried to get people together?"

And Bumlets did, indeed, remember; Skittery and Race actually starting to dislike each other until David accidently brought them together once more.

"You're right."

Dutchy nodded.

"It's good we didn't try to get ourselves together then, isn't it?" he asked Bumlets, turning to grin at his lover.

"Yeah, or we might have ended up actually hating each other."

Dutchy nodded and smiled at Bumlets, shouldering him slightly in camaraderie.

He then turned back to the spectacle that was David and Spot, wondering when the two would finally get their act together and stop pretending to hate each other.


	6. Crutchy is a friend, indeed

"Hey, kid. What'chu doin' on the corner like that?"

Francis looked up at the boy, who was smaller than him, but seemed to make a big impression, despite.

"Um… My pa's in jail and my ma's dead."

The boy nodded, hobbling along and motioning for Francis to follow him.

"You think you can sell papes?" he asked, speed increasing until Francis had to almost jog to catch up.

"Yeah, I think so," he nodded.

"Then you'll be my new selling partner." Francis nodded and smiled at the other.

"What's your name, kid?" came next.

"Francis. What's yours?"

The boy shook his head, "You can't be Francis, that's a terrible name. Think of another one. And I'm Crutchy. Or, at least, that's what everyone calls me."

"Okay. Hi Crutchy, I'm-" he thought for a second, "Jack! I'm Jack."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Jack."

"You too."


	7. Before the Rally

"Just so you know, I'm not going to agree with you up there."

David turned around from where he was setting up to peer curiously up at Spot, who was sitting precariously on one of the balconies.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, voice more bemused than anything else.

"My boys won't like it if I agree with someone who isn't a leader."

"Meaning me."

Spot nodded and swung his other leg over the side, preparing to jump down onto the platform where David was standing.

"I so apologize about that, truly, but it's all I can do," he continued when reaching the ground.

"No, you're not."

"What?" Spot glared, part instinctive, at David, voice incredulous.

"You're not sorry."

Spot shrugged, either an acquisience or nonchalance, David didn't know.

"It's what I gotta do," he finally stated, the slight flush the only indication of his being uncomfortable.

David nodded and Spot gave a quirk of his mouth in return; David knew that he was grateful that David didn't care.

"I'll see ya later, Mouth," Spot replied after a new moments of silence.

He walked past David, brushing his fingertips against David's own, and strode out the front door.

"Yeah, see ya," David called to Spot's retreating back, smiling slightly at the half-wave Spot gave in return.


	8. The 4th wall

"Hey, what's this?"

"No! Don't open that!" Bumlets shouted, dropping his book and rushing over.

Just in time to watch Dutchy open the door.

"What… What is this?" Dutchy asked, voice faint and body trembling slightly.

Bumlets sighed and pulled Dutchy away.

"It's called a fourth wall," he explained, sitting Dutchy down on the bunk and patting his back consolingly.

"I found out about it almost two months ago," he continued, shivering slightly at his own experience.

"But— why didn't I notice it before?"

Bumelts shrugged. "Apparently you have to be in the right place at the right time. I think it only happens on a day when people post gratuitous amounts of a dancer called 'Dominic Lucero' or something."

"But what is it?"

"Fans. They write about out lives."

Dutchy nodded.

"It's surprisingly accurate," he stated, "except for the ones that say you're a hooker and I do drugs."

Bumlets agreed.

"So what do I do now?" Dutchy asked, calmer now that the worst parts were safely in the recesses of his mind.

"Pretend like it doesn't exist."

Dutchy nodded once more and moved to hug Bumlets.

"Did you know that people role play as us?" he asked, slightly incredulous.

"Oh, they're still doing that? How nice. When I saw what was going on, they had just started the whole thing up."

"It's weird that you think that's nice."

Bumlets waved his hand, indicating that the conversation was over with.

They sat for a few moment, both lost in their thoughts.

"I think the weirdest one was the one where we were in a boy band," Dutchy murmured after awhile.

"Or the one where Race's dad was in the mafia!"

"That's the one where I was doing drugs. I don't do drugs."

"Whatever, I think it's kind of canon now."

Dutchy nodded before pausing.

"What's canon?"

Bumlets shrugged, "the hell if I know. People use it a lot though, so I thought it might be applicable."

And even though they knew they shouldn't have, from time to time they ventured out and looked beyond the fourth wall once more.


	9. David is in love, and Sarah is realistic

"No, absolutely not."

"Sarah, you can't _actually _tell me no. I am an adult, you know."

"Still. I refuse."

David sighed.

"What's the problem with it?" he asked, sitting next to Sarah on the bench and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"He's a scumbag!" she exclaimed, voice high with worry.

"He is not. He's just—" he paused to look for the right word, "confused."

"Yeah? Tell that to all the girls he's cheated on, eh?"

"He cheated on you?" David gasped, mouth open and cheeks flushing a dull red.

Sarah shrugged.

"Don't know for sure; and, frankly, don't care to," she replied diplomatically.

David kept looking at her, incredulous, and she sighed.

"How much do you like him?" she finally asked, voice slightly strained— dislike for Jack Kelly rivaling love for her younger brother.

She knew his answer before he said it out loud.

"I love him."

Sarah nodded.

"Okay," she stated, going into 'I love my brother more than I distaste his soul mate, or whatever' mode, "okay, 'Operation: Seduce Jack Kelly' commencing now."

She paused.

"But if he hurts you, even once, don't think I won't go after him with a butcher knife."

David nodded and they smiled together, stifling their giggles as they planned for David's future.


End file.
